


In Theaters Now

by smutgusher



Category: Donnie Darko (2001)
Genre: Crying, Cuckolding, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Mouth Kink, Porn Video, Porn Watching, Public Humiliation, Public Masturbation, Sibling Incest, Supernatural Elements, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27301741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smutgusher/pseuds/smutgusher
Summary: Donnie is taken advantage of in his most vulnerable moment. In the light of the silver screen, his deepest, darkest desires are brought to the surface.
Relationships: Donnie Darko/Elizabeth Darko, Donnie Darko/Gretchen Ross, Frank Anderson/Donnie Darko
Kudos: 9





	In Theaters Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [healthycereal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/healthycereal/gifts).



> Happy Halloween! This story was requested by [healthycereal](/users/healthycereal). Thanks for your support, this was a lot of fun to both research and to write!

Donnie wasn’t paying attention to the movie. He wasn’t paying attention to Gretchen, fast asleep in his arms. He wasn’t paying attention to the shivering cold of the movie theater, huddled in his gray hooded sweater, goosebumps on his skin rubbing against his clothes. 

_I want you to watch the movie screen. There’s something I want to show you._

He was paying attention to Frank, sitting beside him in his gray bunny suit. He just as easily could have stayed like that, but remaining true to Frank’s command, he wrenched his gaze from the ruined face and looked out to the screen. 

It was pink, the color of flesh spread across its surface. Lust-filled moans blasted down the aisles. 

_You did this._

“No I didn’t,” scoffed Donnie, and looked away, back to Frank’s piercing gaze and incomprehensible expression. 

_Watch the movie screen._

Donnie’s heart skipped a beat. He squinted, half-lidding his eyes, letting only the neon pink color of brightly-lit flesh leak into his vision. Trying so hard not to look. 

Because he knew exactly what he would see. 

_You think about girls a lot. You think about fucking a lot during school._

“No I _don’t,_ ” Donnie scoffed in automatic denial. But even as he said this, each thread of disobedience was withering away, betrayed by his squinting eyes slowly relaxing. 

The camera trailed along the girl’s body lazily as she writhed and moaned, shot with an amateur’s idea of elegance. The shot ended between her legs, with the harsh rhythm of an anonymous cock pounding the hell out of her pussy. She screamed and moaned with all the pleasure a porn actress could express, but her vocalizations were tinged with familiarity. 

In the midst of all of this, Donnie was hard. Every intrusive thought, every shameful desire and fantasy he ever had, all bubbled to the surface. 

Frank reached past Gretchen and rubbed the front of Donnie’s pants. He froze, and from the feeling in his chest, it almost felt like his heart froze too. 

_But you don’t think about fucking your family. That’s gross._

The fingers fumbled with the zipper, and Donnie reached down to push them away, but only succeeded in forcing them to close over the strip of metal. It clicked down through the teeth, and Frank pushed two of his fingers through the hole, groping for Donnie’s cock. 

Donnie could have pushed him away and run. Instead, he put a sleeve to his mouth and whined, grinding into the touch. Frank popped the button, slipping beneath the waistband of his underwear. 

Donnie was _so_ hard. 

_Watch the movie screen._

Deep down, he thanked God that Gretchen was asleep. Frank’s fingers curled around his dick. He was hard, and leaking, and his head felt hot. He didn’t know where to turn to. He didn’t want to look anywhere that he _had_ to look. 

_You don’t think about fucking your family, and this is what you show us._

“Chr-” he started, mumbling into his lap. But Frank cut him off. 

_I can do anything I want, and so can you. But you’re scared, Donnie._

Donnie’s eyes brimmed with tears, and he nodded. “Yeah,” he cracked out, and buried his arm in his sleeve, stifling his whine. Frank gently, softly, tugged on his shaft, stroking him up and down. 

_You know what is at stake. So why won’t you do the right thing?_

“No, I–” Donnie whined, muffled into his palm. All he could do was whimper, thrusting roughly into the soft fingers. 

_Why are you wearing that stupid man suit?_

This time, he understood the question. He screwed his eyes together, tight, trying to clear his head, to ignore the hands stroking his dick, the hands he was just _melting_ under. 

_Wake up, Donnie._

Frank’s grip around Donnie’s cock tightened, forcing his eyes to fly open. He squeaked. 

_Watch the movie screen._

Donnie glanced to his left, and realized Frank wasn’t there anymore. He looked down, and the hand was still attached to his cock, moving under the surface of his underwear. He followed the arm, and there was Frank, sitting right next to him on the opposite side, where Gretchen once was. 

He released his hand and Donnie kind of collapsed, pressing his head against the back of the seat before him, his chest heaving. But there was no escaping Frank, who pushed his hand up his skeletal shirt, feeling his very human, very _alive_ chest. He pinched a nipple. Donnie bit his lip and whined. 

_You’re so... soft._

He looked into Frank’s face, but once again, he could not read anything from it. 

The fingers released, but the hand stayed on his chest, firm and still. They stared into each others’ faces. 

“What happened to your eye?” Donnie asked. 

A stray thought crossed Donnie’s mind, and he blinked. And then before him was Gretchen, in her too-large sweater, biting her lip. All he wanted to do was kiss her, like he had kissed her outside the school, like he wanted to in the woods, like he’d wanted to do since their eyes first met. He placed his thumb to her lip, pulling it down. 

Gretchen gave him a small smile as he leaned in, closing his eyes. 

But before their lips touched, something made him look again. 

And the eyes he saw were the eyes of Elizabeth. 

He didn’t stop. He could have stopped, but he told himself a convenient lie and kept going. He pressed onto his sister’s lips, and her lips pressed back. He eased his tongue into her mouth, and her tongue pushed back. 

From behind him, soft hands traced around his ribcage, going under the fake skeleton on his shirt to touch the outlines of the real one. He could feel the presence of lips hovering above his neck, but he could not feel the heat or the rush of living breath. 

Donnie shivered, wet beads forming at his tear ducts. The presence moved to his ear, and murmured: 

_I’m so sorry._

Pure dread welled in his chest, and he broke away from the lips in front of him, squeezing his eyes tight. When he opened them again, Gretchen was fast asleep under his arm, head laid upon his breast. He could feel her breathe steadily. 

He turned his head back to Frank suddenly, the droplets of his tears glittering in the dusty air, dancing off reflected light. 

“Frank?” Donnie forced out from between his gritted teeth. “When’s this going to stop?” 

_You should already know that._

“B-but…” was all Donnie could manage, his protest cut short by Frank’s moving hands, traveling down towards his hips, circling his waist. 

_You are… so powerful._

The hands pushed under his already-loosened belt, under the waistband of his pants, once again touching him, groping, _holding_ him. 

_You don’t even know it. And that is what makes you weak, Donnie._

Donnie whined into his sleeve. 

_You have all this power, and you don’t even use it. You just… sit here, asking all the wrong questions._

With a definitive tug, Frank exposed his cock, freeing it from his underwear. The probing fingers reached underneath, grabbing hold of his balls, and once again Frank just _stopped._

“Frank?” Donnie asked, the question unspoken. 

By way of answer, Frank gripped his balls and gave them a short, sharp squeeze, milking a pained moan from Donnie. And to drive the point home, he spoke. 

_You’re so powerful, but all you can think about is fucking._

He reached over with his other hand, curling his fingers around his cock. 

_You could do this yourself. Why don’t you, Donnie?_

“I– hrnngh,” Donnie moaned. 

_Nobody can see us, Donnie. But you want them to._

Outside of their bubble, outside of Frank, Donnie and Gretchen, the sleepy couples in the movie theater sat up suddenly, their necks snapping around. Their eyes wide open, trained on them. Looking. Staring. 

Frank’s thumb moved over the tip of Donnie’s cock. Donnie bit into his sleeve, chewing the fabric. A different measure of stimulation, distracting from the nearly heart-stopping spikes and pangs hitting him in the chest and in the head. 

He was breathing so shallowly, trying so hard not to make a sound, in a vain, almost childish hope that if he just stopped making noise, he could disappear, he could shrink into his gray hoodie and become imperceptible. 

But his heart and his head overrode this denial, and he roughly bucked into Frank’s grasp, gasping and moaning, his face having turned a deep shade of red. 

His vision turned to a shaking blur, and all he could think to do was look at the movie screen. 

_Doesn’t she look like your sister?_

Donnie wanted to cry, but there was no shoulder for him to cry on. 

Donnie wanted to cum. But he didn’t want to cum. 

But what Donnie wanted was to take Frank’s beautiful, ruined face, touch his lips to his, touch his lips to Gretchen, to Elizabeth, kiss and touch and take his cock and– 

_Come closer._

He wrenched his eyes away from the screen and trained them on Frank, and Frank squeezed Donnie’s cock in his grip, making him push his hips together in need. 

“I–” Donnie had to say it, he had to vocalize this. “I want you to make me cum, Frank.” 

He felt _stupid._ Shaped and manipulated under his hands and words, and he _knew_ better than to let that happen. But it felt right, even though just thinking about that point made something in his chest sting. This was what he wanted. 

Donnie was a tangled heap of hormones, and emotions, and utter, total confusion. This was the most clarity he could ever hope for. It wasn’t trust, but truth. 

With a quiet rustle, every other head in the theater turned back to the screen, settling back into their seats, moving once again like people, instead of human puppets. 

The hand grasped around his cock moved in a steady rhythm. The hand around his balls squeezed firmly. Between them, he was utterly overwhelmed, and yet in the strangest of ways, he felt at peace. It felt _right._

_Watch the movie screen._

This time, Donnie looked. And this time, with clear eyes, Donnie saw the tangle of flesh. He saw the cock pushed in deep, two bodies sealed together. 

The camera pulled back, bringing perky tits into view, and Donnie salivated over them. 

He saw his sister’s face, and he drooled like a dog. 

_Do you think about your family, Donnie?_

“Yeah,” he said, the dam of denial bursting, the truth spilling out of him. “I think about fucking my sister a lot.” 

_Gretchen?_

“I think about fucking her too. She’s hot. And so… so are you,” Donnie giggled, drunk off the endorphins of his own revelations. 

For the first time since Donnie sat down in the movie theater, Frank’s upper lip moved, twitching in something that could have been a half-smirk. It vanished in the blink of an eye. 

And he resumed jerking Donnie off, this time with purpose instead of mere manipulation. The hand on his chest that held him in place moved up, working through the neck of his shirt, gliding over his chin, his lips, pushing into his mouth. 

The taste of rubber and fake fur filled his senses, and he just wanted to bite down on it. 

_You can do anything you want._

He sunk his teeth into the rubber and fabric. 

_And so can I._

Donnie whined into the fingers, releasing them from his jaw’s grip, and they pushed further into his mouth, hooking around his tongue. 

His breath shortened and quickened. He was nearly hyperventilating under the pressure, his heart beating hard and fast. 

He humped into Frank’s hand, melting under the sheer manipulation. But before he could gasp out a warning, Donnie came abruptly. 

The first string of cum shot over the seats in front of him. Frank aimed it further down, forcing the second to splatter against the back of the seat in front of them. Donnie didn’t care who saw or heard him anymore, shooting his third and fourth ropes over the armrest between the seats, whining and grunting. 

His cock had quickly softened, twitching and drooling. Frank ran a finger along the tip, gathering the remains of Donnie’s issue, and brought it to his mouth, smearing it on his tongue. 

Donnie collapsed backwards into his seat, grinning and panting, looking over between Frank and back at the sleeping Gretchen. Somehow, the entire time, Gretchen slept soundly. 

When he finally caught Frank’s eye, he drank in his expression. 

Frank looked at him with a glint in his eye. In his post-orgasmic thoughts, Donnie interpreted it as some form of hope. 

But that fell away quickly from his expression, replaced with a void of sadness. 

The sounds from the screen faded, and then it was only Donnie, and Frank, and no-one else. 

_Have you ever seen a portal?_

Suddenly, the silver screen cut back to the original movie, with a very distinct difference. The screen drained away, caving inwards, the faces of the actors morphing underneath an unknown pressure until the movie broke away entirely, showing a tunnel of pure blue sky in the center of the picture. 

A blink of an eye later, the scene cut to a view of an expensive house with a well-manicured lawn. One he’d seen before. 

_Burn it to the ground._

On those final words, the spell between them broke. Donnie was back in the theater, huddled with his sleeping girlfriend. Everything was as it was. Untouched. 

With a renewed sense of purpose, he pulled up his hood, glancing at Gretchen for a moment. He closed the zipper on his sweater and slipped out into the night. 

_28 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes, 12 seconds._

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me on Twitter and in other places @ smutgusher.com!](https://smutgusher.com)   
> 


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